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bridesmaid

I won’t cry because you’re wearing the perfect dress we picked out together.

All those fittings –

I tried to tell you; but you wouldn’t listen and insisted on this pattern and that shade
and that pattern and this shade
with the glass beads reflecting the faux sunlight in the imaginary chapel
as you turned here and there emphasising the fragile bond between sequin and organza.

You were upset I didn’t mirror your passion for that other gown with the ruches;

that I opted for the short veil because it left your petite frame alone;

and that I had no stutter to stifle whatsoever when you walked out in your final choice (which does not mean no one else won’t!)